The bar was nearly empty when I walked in.  I didn’t find that too surprising considering it was a quarter past three in the morning.

 

I took a seat at the counter and growled for the bartender to bring me a shot of jack.  I grabbed it as soon as his fingers left the glass and knocked it back, waving at him to fill it again.  By the time I had dropped my fourth, he was looking at me suspiciously.  Like he hadn’t expected trouble out of me when I sat down but now… now he wasn’t so sure.

 

I leaned back casually, letting my jacket fall open just enough for the overhead lights to catch the bit of brass attached to my belt.

 

With a grin, he slid the bottle at me from across the bar and went to stare suspiciously at someone else.

 

I filled my own glass, but drank it slower this time.  Wincing at the taste as it bit into my tongue.  Any other night, it would be a beer in my hand.  Any other night, I’d be smiling after what I’d just done.

 

But tonight… tonight came with a price tag that I hadn’t been expecting and didn’t know if I could pay.

 

Where the hell did she get off anyway?

 

It’s been the same for the last six months.  The same routine, the same expectations.

 

I’d head to her office when my mood got too black; when a case was too much or when the tension between us just got too fucking thick.

 

And we’d argue.

 

We’d argue like we couldn’t stand each other.  Spitting words and insults back and forth; insults about her being cold, unfeeling.  Insults about me being careless… unconcerned with her end of the job we shared.

 

And it always ended the same way.  With the two of us standing toe to toe, so close together that you couldn’t slide a hand between us, her blue eyes shooting sparks, mine tossing daggers.

 

We’d reach for each other at the same exact moment, when we just couldn’t stand it anymore.  My hands would tangle into her hair while hers slid inside my leather jacket.

 

The kisses were never soft, never safe.  Always hard and bruising; the meeting of demand and desire and we would struggle for a few minutes to see who would get their way. 

 

The desk… or the couch.

 

I’m sure you can guess which one was my choice.

 

More often than not, we’d end up with me bending her over her desk, pushing up her two thousand dollar Armani skirt to slide my fingers past her panties and into the wetness coating her thighs.

 

And the very eloquent Alexandra Cabot would spend the next twenty minutes mumbling obscenities into her expensive Italian leather blotter.

 

The memory makes me flush and I pour myself another shot of jack, tipping my head back as it slides down my throat.

 

Where was I?  Oh yeah, so where the hell does she get off changing the rules like that?

 

Ok, so maybe a little of it was my fault.  I had never gone to her apartment before.  It was always my place or her office and no where in between.  That kept it what it was… my game.  On my time.

 

But tonight… tonight was different.  Tonight we caught the bastard who had been raping women up and down the north subway lines.  Normally that would have left me elated.  But the fucker looked me in the face and gloated… he fucking GLOATED!  He said he might be going to jail, but that he’d take the memories of what he’d stolen from those women with him and there was NOTHING that could undo what he had done.

 

And he was right.

 

I slammed out of the interrogation room before I lost it completely and took a swing at him.  It would have made me feel a lot better to make him bleed, but it wasn’t worth the disappointment I would have seen in her eyes tomorrow.

 

And that’s what put her in my head.

 

I tried to walk it off, but the more I walked the more pissed I got.  The more pissed I got, the more I needed to yell.  The more I needed to yell, the more I thought about her.

 

Eventually I looked up and found myself in front of her building.  Lost in the blackness of my thoughts I flashed my badge at the doorman and went up unannounced. When I got to her door, I pounded on it like she was a perp I was there to intimidate.  I’m sure that’s the look I had on my face too.

 

Then she opened the door.

 

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I know people say that, like it means that they were in shock or something but I literally could not speak.  The look on her face took every bit of breath from my body.

 

She was scared.

 

But not of me. 

 

She reached out and grabbed me by my jacket, dragging me inside her apartment as her hands slid onto my cheeks and her lips pressed against my forehead.

 

“What’s wrong baby?”  She whispered, her voice breaking.  “What happened?  Is Elliot ok?”  She wrapped me up in her arms and held me tightly.  “Talk to me, Liv…  Let me help!”

 

The concern in her voice, the feel of her arms around me… they were overwhelming. 

 

And then she stepped back… and I saw them.

 

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked her up and down.  I know the look on my face must have changed because her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest, her lower lip extending slightly.

 

And there she stood, in baby blue footy pajamas covered with little white flowers…pouting in her foyer.

 

God dammit!  No one with as much power as she has had any business looking so fucking adorable!

 

“Liv?”  She asked again, suspiciously this time.

 

I couldn’t help it.  I laughed.

 

“Damn it, Olivia!”  She blushed bright red as she slapped my arm.  “You scared the hell out of me!  The way you looked…”

 

“You’re going to talk about the way I look?”  I actually snorted!  “Where the hell did you find Dr. Denton’s in grown up sizes?”

 

She stared down at her feet as her ears turned bright pink.  “I had them made!”  Her lower lip swelled a little bit more.  “My feet get cold!”

 

And that’s when I felt it. 

 

That last little piece fell into place… and I fell with it. 

 

I wrapped her up in my arms and laughed as I whispered, “God I love you.”

 

And everything changed.

 

There were no angry words or power struggles.  She simply led me to her bedroom and let me inside her heart.

 

I have made love through anger, through tears before, but this was the first time in my life I had ever made love while I was filled with laughter… and joy.

 

And when we were done, when I looked down at her, I realized that I didn’t get to be the person I used to be anymore.

 

The rules had changed, and it scared the hell out of me.

 

So here I am, sitting on this bar stool at three thirty in the morning.  Thinking about her goofy pajamas and the way her eyes light up when I walk into a room and how her ears have always turned pink when I stand just a little too close and I finally understand…

 

Love doesn’t have one bright shining moment.

 

It’s a series of minor things.  Little things that embed themselves in your heart until the light finally reflects off of them and you see them for what they really are.

 

I twist the cap back on the bottle as I admit to myself that the rules didn’t really change. 

 

I’m just paying attention to what they are for the first time.

 

And as if these revelations aren’t enough, I can actually feel it when she enters the bar; a succession of pleasant shocks that travel up my spine, making my fingers tingle and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

 

She moves to stand next to me and I glance down, laughing silently when I see the footy pajama’s tucked into a pair of sneakers.

 

I look into her eyes, seeing the love I feel reflected back at me and I smile.

 

Her answering smirk is a cross between Alexandra the ADA and Alex the cold-footed, and I give in completely.

 

What can I say? Footy pajamas turn me on…